Battleforged
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Chapter 387 - Battle For Freetown: Part 9
🕑 Added 2024-01-15 03:59:01 +0000 UTCA/N - POV Shift (This is effectively a side story that may tie to main later. I hope you enjoy :)
From within the safety of the massive fortress of stone and twisted steel with just the thinnest veneer of polished marble, the screams, shouts, and distant explosions had faded to a constant background roar. Yet still the small scaly humanoid hiding and shivering under his teller’s window refused to get up, lest the handful of humans wielding swords and a handful of pilfered Blue Corp T-1 blasters might see poor Glick and think to do unmentionable things to him like they had Snaz and Iglit, after they had fled back into the bank, only to find they couldn’t pass the gate or slip through the bars.
“Open up, fuckheads! I want to make a withdraw!” shouted one of the Confederate States troopers, chuckling coldly as he stepped over the bodies of both human mercenaries and panicked goblins that had been cut down by one faction after another for the past two hours, before giving the reinforced bars made of blackened Soul-Steel a half-hearted kick.
“Fuckers locked tighter than fort Knox, Phil. I told you the goblins aren’t fools. They probably scurried off with all the gold back when our collards were poisoning those asshole Spockian elves in Blue Quarter.”
“That’s bullshit, Tom! They didn’t even pay us! Fuckers broke their own contract, and we had to kill those women just to make sure loose lips sunk no Confederate ships.”
Tom spat, glaring at the gate made of blackened bars of steel that revealed so much, yet allowing no passage at all. “Yeah, I knew working for those assholes wouldn’t end well. They’ve been collaring more slaves than we’ve been!”
“We’re not collaring slaves, Tom. We’re drafting upstanding American citizens as the first step to taking back our country.”
“Sure, Phil. Say that to the women who lost their heads when you sprung the collar blades, right after we promised to free them. Free them from the burden of life! That shit kills me. Not literally. Unlike them.” Tom frowned at his companion’s cool expression. “You have no sense of humor, Phil. Point is, these assholes owe us three million credits and free banking forever, in case Blue ever finds out just how badly our little whores fucked them over before we cut our losses. Literally! Ha. At least the goblins laughed. But that’s all beside the fucking point. IF those goddamned goblins are now robbing their own bank… that’s a fucking problem.”
“It is, Tom. Only upside is that we made out like fucking bandits pillaging Blue quarter. It’s going to be sweet having access to one of the only working entertainment centers in the entire United States! If that doesn’t make us popular with the woman, nothing will.”
Tom snorted. “As if the captain and colonel won’t be confiscating everything except our blasters. If we’re lucky.”
Phil cursed. “This is bullshit. We have no gold, the posh quarters in the city we were promised is never gonna happen, and the goblins are fucking fleeing! It’s like we lost. How? How did we lose?”
Tom shrugged. “I don’t know what the fuck’s going on any more than you do. We did our assignment perfectly. Working with those off-world bucket heads, our girls brought Blue Quarter to it’s knees! And none of that matters. The Captain just gave us orders to gather the men, all the goods our slaves can carry, and get ready to head back to Virginia.”
The soul steel grate was kicked a final time before the pair of men left, and all was quiet in the building once more as a trembling Glick peeked out from under his table, checked once more to make sure that the soul steel gate was closed and that the tiny golden key he held would open it. Because even if those humans would never have been able to slip through the bars… had they thought to shoot between the bars and spotted poor Glick, or tried throwing fire bombs inside out of spite… it was good that he had remained hidden.
Glick took a deep, steadying breath as he took in the now nearly empty bank, having had only a skeleton crew when Lord Greed the terrible himself had pulled so many of his employee slaves out for his own ends, locking it all tight.
Save for Glick, who had been stuck on the copper pot for a very a painful hour since fresh rat was a delicacy he could never turn down, and rotting rat was every bit as delicious as ripe cheese. When the two were mixed together in quivering chunks of delicious raw funk…
Sheer rapture.
And he saved so much on his food bills!
Yet he sometimes paid a price for his culinary daring.
At least the squirming things were now out of him, and that’s what counted, he supposed, having another sip of lemon water to soothe his belly as he slowly slunk through the always soothing collection of twigs and wires placed at strategic locations that made the humans uncomfortable but always filled him with soothing happiness.
Almost as much happiness as when he dared to contemplate a plan so bold that his mother would have hugged him, once… and his father tear out his throat, lest his daring doom their entire clan.
But still. Even if it was only a fantasy, as he tiptoed across the marble floor past the desk where his former screaming superior worked, he couldn’t deny how exciting it felt, to think that there was an entire bank full of gold.
And no one of significance here, but him.
It was almost as if… somehow, by default, the gold belonged to him?
He couldn’t help dancing a happy little jig. Knowing it was fantasy. Foolish fantasy. Dangerous fantasy.
Almost as dangerous as slipping off the ID card from the pile of stripped equipment Greed had made security surrender before appropriating them all, and heading down the glossy steps to the bowels of the bank.
He couldn’t help rubbing his hands together. Even if he wouldn’t dream of touching the gold bars, perhaps he could savor a few private moments gazing at all the pretty gold? Perhaps it would be just enough to spark another epiphany. Maybe he would finally hit Level 15 in his Profession! Oh, how glorious that would be, after the level ups he had already earned, coming to this mana rich planet.
Even if it would eventually be consumed… the people and potency, for the sake of his people’s soul forges, at least he could certainly enjoy it for now!
A comforting thought that gave him the courage to approach the final corridor leading to the grand holy grail of the entire bank… the golden vault.
“Psst. You there! Yes, you! Come here at once. That’s an order!”
Glick froze. Trembling before the authority in that voice, his lowly self all but compelled to obey as he turned his snout to the narrow corridor secured by bars where the banks handful of prisoners were kept. Not that many were alive. Just a few emaciated humans looking on with souless, dead eyes, much like those worn by that Contender’s mate and child, guests of the bank shortly after their man had dared to establish a competing bank. Yet Greed had eventually ordered their enemy’s companions fed as well as watered, and released into his care. But still, there was at least one figure who looked well-fed and quite out of place in a prison where undesirables were placed and forgotten about until they eventually died and were no trouble for anyone at all. Hence why there was a reinforced steel grate within the corner or each chamber that served as both toilet and waste disposal when the prisoners eventually starved and died.
They were all well-watered, of course. Blue had forced very stringent requirements about minimal sanitary requirements including clean air, water, temperature and humane treatment of all temporary detainees! The humane treatment clause was the only reason why Eric Silver’s companions hadn’t been violated and tortured hourly. They could thank Blue for that mercy. But temporary detainees? Did they have some fantasy that they’d be released into Blue’s legal custody at the end of a business day?
Glick shook his head sadly. Silly Blue. Didn’t they understand that all detainees were temporary? They stayed until they starved and died, and then they were detainees no longer!
And why was he gazing so intently at the catatonic prisoners? They were someone else’s problem, namely waste disposal’s and certainly not his. He was here to look at the shimmering piles of coins and bars of gold that he was sure he could make out through the barred door at the end of the hallway.
He carefully avoided even looking in the direction of the left-hand corridor leading to the VIP branch of the bank where the incident had occurred. The lights had all died out from unspeakable mana surges. Even now the air from that wing crackled with odd waves of deadly heat and bitter cold. Fortunately, VIPs were to be fawned over and pampered while being coaxed out of ever more of their resources. Certainly they weren’t actually given anything save wine, women, and praise. And access to their personal trinkets in safety deposit boxes, of course. So that wing was as far from the actual vault where the gold was kept as it was possible to be.
Yet before he could take another furtive step toward his ultimate destination , that same voice froze him where he stood.
“Glick. Is that you? I see you, Glick!” Hissed a voice that Glick, to his horrified dismay, realized that he recognized. It was the voice of a petty tyrant who exuded all the properties one expected of a quality backstabbing opportunist. It was none other than…
“Tis I, Sir Snickles!” The goblin said with a proud glare from the other side of the bars of his cage, still wearing his fancy gilded robe, even if it was looking a bit worse for wear.
He flashed a triumphant smile when Glick froze.
“That’s right, it’s me. Your boss! And I see you’re down here in the bowels of the bank without permission!”
Glick whimpered, ears going back like a whipped dog while Sir Snickles eyes lit up in triumph.
“That’s right! I see you are guilty of multiple infractions! Don’t think you’ll walk away Scot-free from this, Glick! Your only hope is to beg for clemency, plead for my forbearance and I might… just might… see fit to forgive you.”
“I just… I only wanted to make sure that the vault was… secure, sir.”
This earned a cold snort. “Or steal our bank’s precious treasures, more like.”
Glick froze in horror. “Never, sir! Never never never!”
“Prove it! Sir Snickle’s roared. “Stand right here before me and take the Oath of Obeisance to obey me in all things like the good little slave you are and MAYBE I will believe the sincerity of your words!” He jabbing his finger before bars of his cage. “Now, Glick. Do it now!”
A whimpering Glick quickly scurried over, before being stopped cold by the barred door leading to the holding cell wing. Half a dozen dying men and women who had been lost in their own misery seconds before were now gazing at a trembling Glick with desperate intensity.
Glick swallowed, his eyes before the locked gate, as common sense, of a sort, finally clicked into place. “Um… Boss Master Sir Snickles…”
“Yes, Supplicant?”
The cool eyed arrogance of the goblin trying to intimidate him from across two locked gates was impressive, Glick had to admit.
“There’s sort of a locked gate between me and you. Two, in fact.”
Sir Snickles rolled his eyes like Glick was the biggest idiot in the world. Which wasn’t at all unusual.
“This is why you’re just a teller, Glick. Utterly incapable of pursuing the sweet joys of default collections like the true movers and shakers of this bank! You’re failing to see the bigger picture, Glick!” The other goblin positively glared, though he did have to shift his face through the bars to do it. “You’re failing to live up to your own potential!”
The smaller goblin sighed and lowered his head. Which of course helped his thoughts clear just a bit. Clear enough that he was beginning to register something unexpected, despite years of whippings and beatings and being firmly taught his place by his loving parents and siblings, which was as the lowest of the low, and if he didn’t have a basic sense of how numbers work, he’d probably be shoveling shit with his brothers somewhere, still being beaten daily. As if to assure them all that no matter how miserable their lot in life, Glick’s was always worse. Yet much like a shaft of particularly strong moonlight abruptly piercing the perpetual smog over his birth city, illuminating the bleak caverns of his mind, Glick was aware that now things were just the tiniest bit different.
Because he, Glick, was on the side of the bars that led to the warm golden heart of the bank. A bank sealed by soul-steel grates and reinforced bars that would assure that not even the most desperate customer could barge in after-hours.
Not even the Bronze Ranked mercenaries that had left Glick peeing his robe with the awful pressure they radiated from their cores when they came marching in by Prince Greed’s side just days ago. No matter how powerful their Tier-3 plasma blasters!
This bank was effectively protected by the same alloys used in their battleships that they sold to the galaxy at large at super-competitive prices! Which meant that there was no way in hell any third-world native was breaking in. It also meant that no one in the holding cells, no matter how strong, was breaking out.
Glick took a shuddering breath, realizing, perhaps for the first time, just how unique his position within the bank truly was.
And the look in Sir Snickles eyes made it clear that his boss… former boss?? Recognized the shift in power dynamics as well.
As of that moment… Until Greed used his soul-linked talisman on the gates, of course, Glick was the only one with access to the bank. And all the treasures therein.
For the first time that Glick could recall, he felt the faintest of smiles lifting up his fangs toward his superior.
Sir Snickle’s eyes bulged. He screamed and shrieked and banged on the bars of his cage. “You will open the gate and prostrate yourself before me, Glick! You will do it now! You will do it now! You will do it now!”
“No.”
Glick felt his heart lurch at that word of defiance.
A whisper, really. But it was the first time he had ever defied an order or challenged a supposed superior.
There was a sudden awful intensity in the air. The half dozen prisoners… because that’s what they were, prisoners effectively sentenced to death for whatever whim struck a particular manager at the time. Maybe they had gotten a bit uppity. Maybe they simply smiled a bit too much when paying off their loans on time. For whatever reason, they were trapped in the same containment facility (death camp) as Glicks (former?) boss.
And a tiny part of Glick’s mind wondered what would have happened if he hadn’t so slavishly fawned over his many bosses’ legs whenever they needed a whipping boy to take their frustrations out on... If he hadn’t had a knack for always bowing obsequiously and heaping praise upon his employers at just the right moments… would he be locked in those cages as well?
Glick shivered, feeling once more the weight of the half dozen doomed gazes locked within those cages. For the first time appreciating just how terrible those cages were.
“What did you say to me, Glick Halfbutt or the Halfbutt clan? You worthless little piece of excrement seared on the soul cauldron pits of Tartus X? Do you dare to defy me? Your direct superior, you vile little shit? You will pay for that, Glick Halfbutt!” Sir Snickles shrieked his outrage before giving into his more primitive instincts as he rattled the cage with all of his limbs before throwing a piece of rock hard excrement Glick’s way.
Excrement which Glick expertly dodged, even if his boss was an old hand at throwing it, even through multiple rows of soul-steel bars. After years of abuse and extracurricular activities he tried not to think too deeply about, he had earned bonus points to Quickness and Perception both, so was quite good at dodging excrement and all other manner of waste that people tossed his way.
Of course, he wasn’t a complete fool. Anyone at the bank who tossed crap at him he’d gratefully let spatter him before bowing and apologizing profusely for his many failings.
And that, he realized with a cold chill that tasted of a feeling terrifyingly close to anger that Glick DARE not feel… was probably the only reason why he wasn’t in the cages with those half dozen humans who, now that he thought about it, looked oddly familiar.
“Timothy Longbow, right?” Glick was almost surprised to hear his own voice echo oddly through the tiny prison wing, and if the six doomed souls had looked intently at him before, now their eyes were blazing with a desperate hope that left Glick’s stomach roiling.
Wierd, alien, and very ungoblin-like thoughts began invading Glicks mind.
Though he was pretty sure it was probably indigestion from the rat salad he had enjoyed earlier. Maybe he hadn’t quite pooped out all the worms?
He shook away the distraction, instead focusing on the reedy, exhausted voice that was nothing like the strong baritone he had last heard just… what had it been, days ago?
“You remember!” Timothy actually managed a smile. His eyes reddened, as if he wanted to cry, though no tears were exuded by his parched body.
Glick nodded. “Of course I do! You were always polite to me when you took out your savings and your guild always paid your debts in time. Always! I was so glad, because it’s such a headache filling out all the debtor forms, even if half my coworkers say that’s the best part of the job.”
Timothy sighed as the parched-looking girl beside him crumpled down in sobs.
Glick’s eyes lit up once more. “I know her, that’s Bethany! She’s your wife, right? She actually offered me a piece of chocolate cake! No one’s ever given me cake before. Not ever! Not for anything!” Glick’s eyes lit up with cheer. Truly, the best part of his day was his job at the front, working as a bank teller. And the dark secret he kept close to his heart was he didn’t want any other position. He wanted to see happy customers who were going places and always paid their loans on time. He didn’t want to see their warmth and cheer—warmth and cheer they sometimes shared with him, like these two did, as if he were a person, as if he actually mattered—fade to anxious desperation like it did for so many others who came to the bank.
Yet his good cheer instantly turned to a heavy painful feeling in the center of his belly as Bethany continued to cry.
Would his lunch give him no mercy?
Timothy raised his eyes from his sobbing wife, meeting Glick’s own. “Glick, I know you’re just a young goblin following orders, but it would mean the world to me if maybe you could give my wife and I… and our companions... a flask or pitcher of water? Anything really.” He forced an anxious smile. “I fear that, in the panic that infected this bank, however many days ago it was… no one has given us anything to drink. Or eat. But mostly, we’re all feeling a bit parched, friend Glick. And if you could do us a solid until we get everything sorted out, we’d really appreciate it.”
Glick froze at those words. Eyes lightening with a frisson of wonder and hope he had never felt before.
He could actually do something to bring a warm smile to people who had been nice to him. People who he actually liked! And best of all, most importantly, it was within the rules!”
“Glick! Turn around and face me at once! You know better than to talk with prisoners in the holding cell! They’re there for good reason!” Sir Snickle’s voice had had taken on an odd panicked timbre.
Glick turned around to glare at Sir Snickles from his cage. “The edicts we signed for our bank charter are clear, Sir Snickles. All detainees are to be treated humanely for the duration of their stay. No torture, no abuse, and they are not to be deprived of water. The codicil is very specific. We risk our very charter if we break it!” His voice had turned to a hiss that surprised even him. He then quickly turned away from the door before his former boss… definitely former… could throw more dung at him.
He frowned, eyes used to scanning the adjoining guardroom for any morsel of food to eat, quickly spotting the cobbled-together pantry the guards clearly used to treat themselves when securing both prisoners and the gold in this portion of the bank. Not that anyone was ever breaking through those bars, but still.
Yet he frowned, before turning back to the holding cells. “Sorry, Tim. I don’t see any water…” He winced at the despair that flashed in their eyes. “But I did find this nice bottle of wine!”
Tim winced. “Alcohol when we are this dehydrated.”
“It doesn’t matter! We’re classers!” Hissed one of his companions, a young exhausted-looking man in what well-worn mages robes, still radiating protective enchantments that tickled Glick’s nose. “Anything liquid will save our lives. We just can’t keep drinking our ever dwindling piss!”
Bethany froze, gazing at Glick for long moments, crumpled features softening with a hopeful smile. “I told my husband you were good people, Glick. No matter what else happened, I know that much is true.”
“Yes, we’d be grateful for your lovely wine!” declared a once powerfully-muscled girl who now had dark circles under her eyes, looking at him so desperately through the bars of her cage. “And we can only hope you’ll be good enough to share it with all of us?”
Glick froze in surprise with the bottle of wine in hand, instinctively dodging Sir Snickles’ increasingly displeased ire, before actually finding it within himself to smile again. The girl looked so friendly! Patting the seat beside her in her cage as if she actually wanted to share a drink with him. His heart warmed. Of course he would do no such thing, but just to see that smile!
“Sure! Hold on. First I have to open the door.
“Which you cannot do!” Sir Snickles screamed. “You need me to direct you to the keys, you low-level nothing! Just like you need me to direct you to doing anything! You can’t even properly file a payment default. You’re worthless to this bank, Glick! Absolutely…”
Sir Snickles words died off in a dry whisper when Glick opened the door with a single expert flick of his claw.
“No… you’re no Thief, no Rogue. How did you…”
But Glick, whose background Class he tried desperately hard not to think too much about, which he had only taken to survive very hard times back home, and maybe help his father and brothers out a time or two... or twenty. Not that he had ever gotten anything but kicks and a full belly after every job… and it certainly couldn’t compare to an actual honored Profession that he made absolutely sure was the only thing to show on his Interface sheet! All that mattered was that his father had kept his promise, and on the day that Glick had shown up to take the royal Banker’s test, he had the gold required to pay the fees and had had the advantage of both books and tutors.
Even if those tutors had enjoyed kicking him and throwing dung at him just as much as the rest of his family, at least they had admitted, with a glare that had pained them, that Glick actually had the makings of an accountant!
Glick quickly shook away the memories of times best forgotten, before being struck by the too hopeful gazes of too many people gazing his way.
The ache in his chest had come back, this time worse than ever!
Perception check made!
You have successfully dodged Spite-filled Dung!
Dodge has gone up one Rank!
You have earned experience in your –HIDDEN-- Class!
Tim gave him a strange look when he flickered past his screaming boss’s missile. Glick winced in apology, grateful he hadn’t dropped wine bottle or cups.
“Sorry. This really isn’t the best place for you to refresh yourselves, is it?”
Tim actually managed to chuckle warmly at that. “No it isn’t, friend Glick. But we make do with what we have.”
Glick could now smell quite well the contents of the cages beside Sir Snickle’s own. The small goblin winced, really not liking the pain he was now forced to see close up, that even Tim’s forced bonhomie cheer couldn’t completely hide. It was so much easier cheering along with all his fellows when their masters roared about the glorious manifest destiny of their people when not seeing any victims firsthand. The actual scent of despair and fear sweat were awful things. Things he had experienced far too often in his own life to ignore now. Things he had done his best to make sure never happened on his watch, over half a dozen struggling guilds owing him more than they’d ever realize when he made certain never to take advantage of legal traps and grey areas that Sir Snickles and the others absolutely expected and all but demanded that their slaves and underlings take full advantage of.
Yet Glick never did.
He was uniformly considered a stupid buffoon by his fellows, with an uncommon knack for numbers, so was a bit too valuable to kill out of hand, especially when Glick had leveled up his Fawning skill to such an absurd degree. So he was assigned to the window with the absolute minimal chance of default bonuses being earned, which was exactly how he liked it. No matter how much he filled his head up with goblin spite to mask his thoughts and get through the day. And because he was never so foolish as to think that Greed or another overseer wasn’t indeed so powerful that he could actually read their mind. He was sure that they did. Such as the thing with all those writhing limbs around its mouth, even now haunting the upper reaches of the –Don’t think about it!
So he kept his thoughts firmly in line, and pushed away exactly WHY he did things the way he did. His customers smiled, his many bosses knew that he, at least, would catch any accounting shenanigans committed by the executives in other offices, so was probably still breathing for that use alone… and that was all fine with Glick.
Even if he hadn’t been paid since the day he got here and had to beg for scraps or use old skills to pilfer a few perishables from the upstairs pantry, he was fine with it all. So long as a few people gave him smiles, his day was complete.
Sir Snickle’s voice took on a curious urgency. “Don’t lower your gaze to these miscreants, Glick. Come, tend to me right now, and all is forgiven.” His boss forced a laugh, a desperate light suddenly in his eyes. “You know I’ve always had a soft spot for you, dear Glick. And with just you and me as the only people left in the bank… why, surely no one would mind a few gold treasures lost in all the confusion… don’t you think?”
The wild-eyed goblin locked gazes with a disappointed Glick. “Free me, Glick. I know where the backup manager’s keys are. Together, we can open the vault and grab a fortune that everyone will blame on the Bronze-tier bucket heads! We’ll get away Scot-free and be rich! Filthy rich!”
“Do you really think he’s that stupid?” Bethany snapped, glaring daggers at Sir Snickles. “That he doesn’t know that the minute you con him into taking the fall for robbing the bank, he’ll have signed his own death warrent? Because the minute you’re out the door and holed up someplace safe, you’ll stab him in the back with that holdout dagger you think we don’t see you flashing in the dark, gazing at us like you’d like to kill us at our weakest to grab ALL our experience pools. Then all the gold will be yours and you avoid any and all curses for stealing it! Isn’t that right, ‘Sir Snickles’?”
The goblin in question glared daggers of absolute hate Bethany’s way. “That absolute filth like you would dare suggest such a base act from such an august and noble personage such as myself!”
This earned a cold laugh from the exhausted looking mage. “So says the asshole planning to kill us before we all die of dehydration. Thinking it will grant you the skill evolution you need to break out of this hell hole that you’re locked in just like the rest of us!”
Tim flashed Glick a strained smile. “Forgive us, Glick. I fear that we’re not the best of company for our favorite teller right now. It’s probably to do with us not having had anything to drink in what feels like days. And to be perfectly honest, my friend, I don’t think we have that much time left before even our classes crack under the pressure of our thirst. So if you would do us the kindness of sharing a cup of wine with us…” Tim held Glick’s gaze for long moments, promising so much with that simple desperate smile. “We would forever be in your debt.”
“Lies! Do not listen to their filthy lies, Glick!” Sir Snickles roared. “Now come! Attend me, serve me well, and you and I will leave this place filthy stinking rich, our pockets filled with gold. Together! This I swear!”
“Sure. Until the coast is clear, then you cut his throat. Right asshole?” Bethany snapped. “And no doubt you’ll be right behind him the whole time, so if any of your cronies come along, you can cut Glick’s throat and play the hero. Probably even get a finder’s fee for the gold you claim!”
She shared a quick look with the mage who chuckled mockingly at the goblin, cheeks flushed, trembling with rage.
“What do you think, Steve? He’ll probably get no more than a 5% Recovery fee, if that. Still, it will probably net him 25% of a single gold bar. Damned cheap sellout, if you ask me.”
The mage flashed a Cheshire grin of his own. “Sir Snickles, the idiot who doomed his entire bank? Ha. I’ll bet the finder’s fee is a mere one percent, and he’ll be glad to claim it. Isn’t that right, Sir Snickles? Because one percent really is all you’re worth.”
“How dare you insult me, you pustulent filth! The finder’s fee is twenty percent! Not, one, twenty! You think Blue’s the only one who understand the power of a fifth? It’s the same exact cut I personally got for freezing your accounts and making all your funds disappear before you could pay off your well-deserved debts or leave the bank! And you better believe the word’s gone out! You pay your debts on time, or it’s the slave collar for you. And you will only increase the amount you borrow, always maximizing your new withdraw limit, and never even thinking of paying down your debt, or you’ll disappear altogether!” Sir Snickles cackled like the vindictive madman he was.
Steve and Bethany’s lips curved in matching bitter smiles and Glick frowned in puzzlement, realizing that they looked very similar to one another. Perhaps they came from the same litter?
“They really are an odd mixture of brilliant cunning and arrogant stupidity,” Steve whispered. “Aren’t they, Beth?”
Bethany shook her head sadly before locking gazes with Glick.
“And there you have it, friend Glick. Sir Snickles wasn’t going to slice your throat for a one percent finder’s fee and the restoration of his good name.” Bethany glared at Glick’s now dumbstruck employer. “He was going to do it for twenty!”
Glick blinked in surprise. To see such an angry, venomous glare from the always sweet and kind girl who had never once called him a pustulant sack of filth, or a blight upon goblinoid honor. Not once! Yet here she was, the girl who always had a forgiving smile and kind word for everyone, except perhaps the other tellers. She did make an effort to hop into Glick’s line, as did a number of the happier looking adventurers, now that Glick thought about it… yet now she was gazing at Sir Snickles as if he were the slime that bubbled up from the cesspools when they weren’t maintained properly. And when were they ever?
“Bethany…”
And that was when he sensed it.
The dung he would be unable to dodge. Not unless he wanted it to smack right in the face of Bethany who was now gazing up at him as if he was some… he didn’t know what. Good thing? Kind person? The kind of person he used to hear in tavern tales before things had gotten so hard in Freetown, when Greed had finally taken off the mask of good-natured bonhomie and began grinding the populace down so hard they didn’t even dare to dream anymore? Glick didn’t know what he would call it, or the weird twisting feeling in his belly, or the odd ding in his interface, a choice he didn’t dare let himself be distracted by, suddenly before him.
He only knew that when the foul dung covered with toxic bile rammed for the base of his spine, he dare not dodge or it would smash Bethany right in the face and she would choke on the excrement and die within minutes.
And she had given him cake.
You have been critically struck by toxic projectile!
Background bonuses and training are now in effect.
You have successfully saved against poison!
The air rang with Sir Snickle’s furious shrieks, no longer bothering with subterfuge or reason, instead sharing his hate, and toxic dung, with the world.
Glick sighed when his glass and bottles were shattered, the acidic dung eating away the cheap lining of his scratchy work robes and revealing his one and only concession to comfort, the exquisitely comfortable cloak that had served him so well as his father’s most put-upon and useful tool, once upon a time.
He had kept the cloak, of course, which had infuriated his father to no end.
Personally enhanced Rogue’s cloak counters toxic barrage! You are now approaching the prison cell of your former employer.
“Sir Snickles. You are creating a toxic work environment and are breaching the accords for humane treatment of our clients and those temporarily kept in our holding cells.”
Sir Snickles snarled and screamed, throwing fresh dung Glick’s way before shrieking his displeasure. “I will see you burn for this, you little shit! Do you hear me? I will see you burn!”
Sir Snickles began to cackle loudly. “And I won’t stop with you. Oh no, you little sell-out cesspool shit. You’re just the beginning! You think we don’t know where you come from? You think we don’t know the rotten dung-keeper who spawned you? The half-dogs you call brothers and sister? They’ll all pay for your transgressions, you little sack of putrescent filth! Ha! You should have accepted my offer and taken the gold!”
“So you could stab me in the back?”
“At least your family would live, you little piece of worthless dung! At least your family would live!”
“And these six. They’re here in holding because you wanted a 20% cut of their accounts. And for no other reason?”
Sir Snickles gazed at Glick like he were the biggest fool in the world. “What kind of idiot are you, Glick? Of course we took advantage of page seven, paragraph six, line four! We can temporarily freeze their accounts at any time for any reason, so long as it’s not more than 24-hours! And if they should freeze just minutes before it’s time for them to pay off their loans in full, they’ll be subjected to standard penalty fees! Should they be unable to pay, then of course it’s the holding cells and then the charnel pits for them. Don’t you get it, you brainless idiot? We’re not actually bringing them banking opportunities. We’re pillaging this planet and claiming their souls!”
Glick turned to smile apologetically at the doomed party of adventurers, half of whom had slumped over once more, looking too exhausted to move.
Tim gave Glick a sympathetic smile. “It’s always painful when idealism is replaced by life’s painful reality, isn’t it?”
Glick sighed. “It is. It really is.”
Sir Snickles snarled and spat in Glick’s face. “It doesn’t matter what you say or do, you little shit! You’re locked in here, same as me! I’m the only one with a manger’s key needed to get out of here, so you’re working with me, or you’ll be strung up by your entrails when Greed gets back here. Do you hear me, you little shit?” He snarled and spat in Glick’s face. “I’m not just your boss, I’m your master!” He gloated coldly, pulling out a document that crackled with energy that sent roiling shivers through Glick that, unlike Bethany’s smile, didn’t feel good at all.
“Those fools were in such a rush to throw me in here, thinking soul-steel was the beginning and end of the defensive measures they needed that they didn’t even strip me of any of my toys! Ha! What fools! And now you see that I STILL OWN YOU, GLICK!”
Glick gazed at his (former!) boss for long moments, took a deep breath, and forced his spine straight, his voice now sounding nothing like the meek servile little worm that had managed to fit in so well in a bank that had at least one Lythid squid-lord working within it.
“I never signed any contract to that effect.”
“It doesn’t matter!” Sir Snickles screamed, heedless of the subtle transformations overcoming his most servile employee. “It’s the paper ALL our slaves sign off on every time they take home a single month’s pay!”
“I never cashed a single check either.”
Sir Snickles eyes lit with gleeful malice. “You think that matters, you little shit? You think that will get you anywhere in a goblin court of law? I’m your superior! If I say you signed it, you signed it!”
Glick nodded thoughtfully. “That’s true, actually.”
“Damn right it’s true!” Sir Snickles chortled coldly. “And I think you know exactly what you have to do, if you don’t want to spend the rest of your life in chains. Or better yet, have your broken body thrown into a soul-steel cauldron along with every Terran fool to come between us and our manifest destiny!”
Glick flashed an oddly sad smile. “You’re right. I do.”
He then drew his class-concealed holdout blaster and aimed right between Sir Snickle’s eyes.
The former high ranking bank executive froze. “No, oh no. It can’t be you. Ilzgeth made it clear that your mind was that of a broken worm! There’s no way you could…”
His words were forever cut up in a flash of plasma and an explosion of superheated gore splattering against the metallic steel rear of the cage as the headless corpse slumped to the ground in erratic spatters of blood as the dying heart pumped its last.
You have taken 2 seconds to Zero in on your target!
Find Weakness Skillcheck made!
Multiple Class Perks are in effect.
You have critically struck Sir Snickles for Catastrophic damage!
You have Killed your target!
EXPERIENCE EARNED!
YOU HAVE HIDDEN YOUR TRUE IDENTITY UNDER THE AUSPICES OF A LYTHID MIND LORD FOR OVER 1 YEAR!
ELITE TITLE EARNED!
You are now a Master Infiltrator! ALL Assassin primary attributes have gone up 5 points!
Assassin Perk Boon earned! - Effortless Disguise. You now have +10 to all disguise checks. You will now truly BE your role! Not even Mind Lords can pierce your veil!
You may now EFFORTLESSLY hide your class from everyone!
Fellow goblins and assassins will see you as a Professional Accountant OR an Assassin!
Terran adventurers will see you as an Honorable Rogue OR a Professional Accountant.
You may change these settings at will! The choice is yours!
Congratulations! You are now a Level 25 Assassin!
You have had a Class Breakthrough!
Class Profession changed from Assassin to – Honorable Rogue!
All those of noble heart are worthy of virtue and redemption!
Even if some paths are a bit more windy than others.
Willpower check made. You have SUCCESSFULLY thrown off your guise. Your mind is now your own once more! What will you do now… Honorable Rogue?
***
The doomed adventurers gazed at Glick with expressions ranging from stunned disbelief to terror. The young blond-haired adventurer shivering beside the wizard keened her terror. “Oh no, he’s going to kill us. Why? Why is this happening to us? We just wanted to pay our debts and have a clean slate in Ashland!”
“Shush, Lisa,” said a Sympathetic Steve, holding the sobbing woman close in their shared cage as Glick slowly approached, his soft brown dog-like eyes fastened onto Bethany who was clenching her partner’s hand so painfully tight, even as she desperately gave Glick her most motherly smile.
“So, what happens now, hero?” She asked.
Glick gazed at her for long moments before pulling free several ice cold bottles of water, his smile somehow matching Bethany’s own, despite their difference in race. He was again feeling that odd curious twisting warmth in his gut that was both painful and wonderful as six pairs of eyes gazed with tearful fondness into his own.
“Thank you, Glick!” From the bottom of our hearts…” Tim burst into tears that were totally unmanly, but Glick didn’t mind.
In less time than it took Steve to curse, Glick’s fearsomely sharp and exquisitely coordinated claw popped open the lock of first one, then all four of their cages.
He politely stepped back as all six adventurers sobbed and cried out, hugging each other close, sharing quips and strained laughter, before turning to Glick as one.
“I think you’re way too good for this city, Glick,” Tim said with an almost fatherly smile after chugging down the remaining half of the water bottle Glick had handed his wife. So Glick handed him another water bottle. It wasn’t like he didn’t have plenty.
Just in case.
“How’d you like to join our party? We’d love to have you adventure by our side.”
Glick froze. An unconditional offer of not just acceptance but comradeship from a native delving party. A prize that was beyond priceless. And of course these silly children had no idea just how generous they were being.
The two halves of Glick, the servile puppy and the trained assassin, both raised by the same insane father, were both simultaneously touched.
“I have a counter proposal for you,” Glick said. “How’d you guys like to help me shut down this bank for good?”
Chapter 388 - Battle For Freetown: Part 10
Comments
Daniel Alexander Womack
I like Glick and his story intrigues me very much. Ty for it.
Kitty
This is a very good chapter!
Goldfish2
Glick might be the only goblin accepted on earth. If he meets Eric then it’ll definitely be a tale for the stars. And more importantly if glick finds earth his new home. Besides the. Emeritus and stuff will be a Burt load of struggle and hatred for goblins that will be on him if he’s the only goblin left or walking accepted. By those who put all goblins together in same group(don’t blame cause honestly was surprised we get glick)
